


Uncover My Secrets

by Mimsys



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Scars, h/c, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:31:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4105960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimsys/pseuds/Mimsys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even though Merlin usually manages to keep his skin covered, one summer it grows too hot and Merlin sheds his tunic, bitterly hoping no one will notice the red and silvery scars on his skin. He earned them while protecting Arthur so he's not ashamed. But when Gwaine draws Arthur's attention to the marks, their king demands to know where they came from and Merlin longs to hide them again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncover My Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> The scars are not self inflicted but descriptions of scars may be upsetting for some people who have self harm related triggers.

It’s unbearably hot; Merlin’s been running around since before dawn handling errands for Arthur and the knights, and he’s seriously considering just calling it quits for now and going to take a nap in the shade of nearby tree. The king isn’t present, after all; Arthur’s running his men through drills on the far training field, and Merlin’s been everywhere _but_ the field, it seems. He started out in the barns brushing out the horses, helped the ladies in the kitchen prepare breakfast for the latest visitors to the castle, helped Gaius organize his room - and now, with the sun barely up and Merlin already exhausted, he was clearing one of the fields of rocks and mess that could trip the men that would practicing there later.

He stripped off his shirt, leaving him unclothed from the waist up except for his scarlet handkerchief, and Merlin briefly considered casting a glamor to hide the scars on his newly bared skin. Some were faint and white; others were red and distended. All but tiny scars on his knees and feet from his own clumsiness, they’d all been earned in surface to Arthur and Merlin wasn’t ashamed of them, even if neither Arthur nor his knights knew where the marks had come from or even that they were there. Shaking his head to dismiss the thought, Merlin wiped his sweat slicked face with the red fabric around his delicate throat and returned to work.

Much as he complained about the effort and the heat, it’d been fairly easy to slip into a steady rhythm as he worked; if a bit of magic aided his task just to lighten the load slightly, he didn’t think anyone had the right to complain and he wouldn’t waste time feeling guilty when the effort would have ruined his back for the evening otherwise. His dark hair stuck to his forehead and his handkerchief and pants both clung; each movements pulled on the fabric, which prickled uncomfortably at his skin. He wasn’t aware of it, though, until the sound of footfall and a lowly cleared throat caught his attention; when he turned to face his King and Gwaine, Merlin felt as if he’d been laid bare. To be fair, he always did around Arthur.

“Sire.” He murmured gently, the playful little smirk on his features reminding Arthur how often he talked back; propriety was a game between the two of them instead of a strict code of conduct. “I hope I’ve cleared the field to your liking. If not, you’ll have to wait - or let me go anyways, which I really feel is the better option.”

Arthur let out a low snort of laughter, looking across the grass and noting its tidy state. He barely glanced back at Merlin, not taking in that anything was out of the ordinary, but Gwaine was not so easily distracted. He stepped closer, earning a curious look from bother other men present, and pointed out a burn that marred Merlin’s skin from ribs to belly button on one side of his body. “Take a tumble into the fire when you were supposed to be cleaning it?” He asked cautiously.

“Something like that.” Merlin agreed dismissively, turning around to grab his tunic; Arthur almost let him but the jagged, raised scar running down his servant’s spine had him reaching out instinctively for a bony shoulder. “Sire?” Merlin asked, tone steady and low despite the undercurrent of panic thrumming through his veins; he could feel his magic stir in response, getting ready to spill out if Merlin didn’t keep a tight leash on it. “Is everything alright?”

“Anything that could have caused even a portion of these marks could have easily killed you.” Arthur replied, brow knottng together - which was a pretty clear ‘no’ as far as Merlin was concerned. “Has someone been mistreating you? You should have come to me at once if someone so much as laid a hand on you, Merlin.”

The smaller male fidgeted with his handkerchief, glancing around nervously before letting his eyes settle back on his liege’s stern, worried gaze. “It’s not like that, Arthur. We don’t have to worry about it right now, alright? They don’t hurt; Gaius makes sure nothing gets infected.”

“So Gaius knew?” Arthur asked, expression stony. Merlin nodded reluctantly and the King continued in a dry, gravelly tone. “And he never thought to tell me that my manservant was so injured?”

“My injuries never affected my duties.” Came the defensive reply and Arthur looked as startled as if Merlin had struck him.

“I don’t give a _damn_ about your duties right now, Merlin.” Arthur sighed, shaking his head. “I’m worried about you. They’re in all different states of healing; I’d say some of these are four, five years old.” He froze at that, eyes narrowing on the healing marks. “As if you’d been collecting them since you came here. What is it in Camelot that’s causing you such pain, Merlin?”

Merlin sighed, trying to decide how much he was willing to share. “It is hard,” he murmured softly, “to take care of a prince such as you were - but a great honor to serve a king such as you’ve become.”

Arthur wavered at that, perhaps wanting to protest that Merlin had never ‘protected’ him; any such protests died on his tongue, though, when he saw the ravaged marks on Merlin’s back. “You’re not protecting anyone now, are you?” He asked in a heated whisper, giving Gwaine a sharp look that made the knight peel back to give them some space. “Not keeping the name of an abuser quiet?”

“No!” Merlin seemed startled by the idea and then merely shook his head, finally pulling away to slip on his shirt; Arthur’s hand clenched in the air and he seemed less than pleased to see Merlin leave. “No, nothing like that. I earned every one of these scars in battle, Arthur, and I’m no more ashamed of them than you are of the ones on your own body.”

“You were not allowed to engage in battle.” Arthur protested.

“And when has that ever stopped me before?” The dark haired man countered, shaking his head. “Now, are you going to run your men through their drills or just have them melt in the heat?”

Arthur eyed him for a moment longer before turning away, adjusting his belt. “You’re dismissed for the day; go rest.”

“Really? Telling me to take a nap?”

Arthur turned to look over his shoulder, giving him a wry smile. “You seemed to have earned one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and/or comments if you liked!


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